Two Seperate Worlds
by Quest for Knowlege
Summary: Serena: a sheltered noble girl whose world is shattered by the mysterious kidnapping of her parents. Arnalia: a bored princess who means well, but when left to her own devices can't help but get into trouble. Two seperate stories with one surprise ending.
1. Serena

**There are two ways to read this story:**

**Read it all the way through, in order, from both view points**

**Read Serena's story (odd chapters) and Arna's story (even chapters) separately**

**There is a reason that I have two stories in one, but I'm trying not to say it… I'll just let you all guess. And, yes, it DOES make sense. … to me...**

**R&R please!**

The day Serena was born dawned bright and cheery. The maid, opening Lady Kristin's window, remarked that this would be a wonderful day to have a baby. And, as if that were a magic word, Kristin gasped with pain as her first contraction hit. The maid, an over-excitable girl, ran from the room yelling that, "M'lady is dying and it's all my fault!"

And by the time Serena's first sounds escaped into the world, the sky had turned a mysterious gray and winds had begun to pick up, followed by rain. But by the time the babe was sleeping in her crib for the first time, the stars shone through an unusually clear, peaceful night. And the old cook, who had lived with the family for as long as anyone could remember, tutted to herself, muttering of old superstitions.

The freak storm, however, was unnoticed in that little room as Lord Andrew and Lady Kristin beheld their new child. Kristin clung to her new daughter for as long as she could before exhaustion finally hit her and she fainted away in her bed. Upon closer inspection, it was realized that the birth had taken a much harder toll on her than was originally thought and that she had lost a lot of blood. She didn't wake up for two days, and when she did she was sickly pale and frighteningly weak. The midwives and doctors called in that week all shook their heads sadly at the poor woman. They didn't expect her to live past her daughter's 10th day.

But the old cook, still tutting to herself, although this time at the doctors, prepared one of her mysterious brews and bustled into the room, waving everyone else out. No one but she could really have said what happened in that room afterward, but it is known that when everyone was allowed back in the Lady had succumbed to a calm slumber. And before another week had passed she was up and walking about the house, as happy and healthy as before. Perhaps even more so because she was one of those women who finds themselves at their best in Motherhood, and she loved her child with every fiber of her being. The doctors, however, told her that it would be highly unwise to have any other children, a statement even the old cook agreed to.

And so the three of them lived, Lord Andrew, Lady Kristin, and Serena for twelve years.


	2. Arnalia

Princess Arnalia hated carriages. They bumped and rattled and even tipped. She had been in one or on a horse for the past week and was getting immensely tired of the whole affair. Her best friend, Lade Sophile of Rosenbride, had somehow managed to jam herself comfortably into the corner of the carriage and was reading a book. Arna, on the other hand, was leaning awkwardly over her knees and trying to ignore the roiling feeling in her stomach.

Her father, the King of Opyll, had been invited to a Grand Royal Hunt, a quad-annual event hosted by a different kingdom every four years. And, this year, it was Drinse, a Kingdom located a convenient two weeks from Opyll. Arnalia winced at the thought. Then again, she _had _wanted to come, a fact that led to her increasingly grumpy mood as it meant that she couldn't blame it on anyone else.

About a month ago, she had been wallowing in boredom, Her brother, newly crowned Prince of Woran, had married the Crown Princess and moved 300 miles away just the week before. Her older sister, the Crown Princess Rose, was on a trip with her husband to see his parents. And Sophie was always off with_ Evan_, her new fiancé. All in all, there was nothing to do. So, when her father had told her that he was going on a trip to Drinse, Arnalia had begged to come.

And when Evan had had to return to the University for his last semester, Sophie had become depressed, bored, and unspeakably annoying to be around. So, knowing that a change of scenery would perk her up, Arnalia had invited her to come as well. And, now, here they were.

The Hunt generally lasted somewhere from a week to a month, depending on where they were going, and it looked like this one was going to be long. The King of Drinse was known for his Hunting Wall, and his kingdom had a large deer population. Luckily for Arnalia, however, she would be staying at the Royal Palace, sight-seeing.

Suddenly the carriage stopped, with a grand lurch that nearly knocked Arnalia to the ground. Sophie looked up from her book and craned her neck out the window.

"We're here!" Sophie said joyfully, facing her friend again. Said friend sat up grumpily and grimaced back.

"Hoorah." She said.

A horse rode up outside of the window, a tall man in his late thirties atop it. "Arna, dear, please try to make a good impression. You'll be here for a while." And, before his daughter could say anything, the King rode off again, toward the front of the long train of carriages, carts, and horses that made up their traveling group.

Arna opened her mouth to yell something out the window toward her father, but Sophie cut her off. "How many times do I have to say it? You were the one who wanted to come."

Arna settled back down resentfully and tried to look calm, rearranging her skirts. "I'm beginning to seriously regret it."

"_Beginning_! Anyone within a hundred feet of you since we started this trip would think by now that you were being dragged here against your will."

"True." Arna laughed. "But you have to admit that anyone who's heard you these past two weeks would think that Evan was _dead_ or something." Sophie sighed sadly. "Don't you dare start again!"

"Ok, so I suppose that we're both no fun to travel with. I guess that's why they stuck us in this carriage, so they wouldn't have to listen to our incessant whining." Sophie's voice turned high and nasal. "My stomach hurts, my head hurts, I hate carriages."

"Oh Evan, oh Evan, I'll never survive without him. Why did he have to go back to the University? I miss him ever so much." Arna retaliated.

"I do _not _sound like that." Sophie broke off her rant about hard carriage seats.

"_Yes, _you do." Arna laughed, and actually did fall as the carriage started off again.

Sophie sniffed jokingly and settled back into the corner with her book while Arna tried to clamber back onto her seat, hoping that it wouldn't take long to reach the palace. A few minutes later she gave a little squeal.

"Look, look, Sophie!"

"What?"

"The Stadium!"

"What?"

"Look!"

Sophie turned. A giant building loomed before her, arched and domed and decorated with colorful flags. Through the closest arch, a huge entryway, she could see a large circular track and seats all the way around. Like the ancient Coliseums.

"…So?" Sophie turned back to her book and couldn't help smiling at her friend's exasperated groan.

"It's _the _Stadium Sophie. All the best warriors train here! I can't believe it's right there!"

"Arna, you'd better not be thinking what I think you're thinking. They'd never let you in, and even if they did, you'd be the only girl there. I mean, back at home you can do whatever you want, but back home you're the _princess_. Here, you're not even a citizen. And you promised your father that you'd stay out of trouble." Sophie put her book down.

Arna adopted a look of innocence. "What? Do you think that I would _ever _do _anything _unladylike? I'm insulted!"

Sophie snorted and picked her book up again, knowing that there was nothing she could say to change the princess's mind.

A few minutes later they reached the palace. Servants whisked the two girls up to their rooms, leaving Sophie at hers first. She flopped down on her bed, relishing the silence, when a knock came. Thinking it was her luggage, she opened it quickly.

"Are you ready?" Arna stood in front of her, wearing a loose dress and what appeared to be legging under her skirt. Sophie got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Ready for what?"

"To go to the Stadium, of course!" And with that, Sophie was pulled out her room and toward certain doom.

**I might want to mention, quickly, that the two stories are on completely different time sets, but Arna and Serena are the same age. Just for reference.**


	3. Serena 2

**Hey, it's the obligatory a/n. Obligatory. That is such an awful word. Awkward is also an awkward word. Like, awkw... anyway, I wanted to know if you thought I should update chapters seperately or a Serena and an Arna together. Because I wrote the Serena awhile ago, and just finished the Arna at 11 last night. So much for going to be at 9... But, it's all for you, my one fan: _PEARLWALRUS! _**

Do you want your name in lights? Just reveiw, and it can happen, I'll even respond! In long, drawn out, run-on sentances that are probably beyond human comprehension, but I'll respond anyway.

**Disclaimer: I've always just wanted to do a disclaimer. Technically, I don't need one, since it's all mine, except for a few references to some _real _Fairy tales. **

**And now, without further ado, a chapter without a title because that's pretty much the bounds of my creativity. Have fun reading!**

**Chapter 2**

Lord Andrew and Ladies Kristin and Serena of Springwood were coming back from visiting the country of Opyll, just to the east of Ilian. It had been a long journey, and Serena was looking forward to getting home.

She hated long carriage rides, and missed her own horse terribly. She was reading, to pass the time, and trying not to look at the passing countryside; it was making her feel a bit nauseous. The worst part of traveling was the getting there. The there was always wonderful. But the actual travel was always awful. Serena propped herself against the side of the carriage and practically stuck her nose in the book.

And then, without warning, they struck. Masked men in camouflaging black and green leapt out of the bushes surrounding the carriage, holding swords and knifes. They motioned for the driver to step out of the carriage, then two of the men climbed in themselves, barely even looking at the people inside. One flicked the reins and the carriage rumbled on, turning south. The three nobles inside barely had time to react.

"Um… excuse me sir, but where are we going?" Serena couldn't help asking. The shock of apparently being kidnapped hadn't quite sunk in, and at first it seemed funny to her, that she was living the same sort of adventure that always happened in books.

The men in the front ignored her. The other members of their band appeared again, this time on horses. Andrew closed the curtains on the carriage doors quickly and turned to his family, wide eyed.

Any amusement Serena had gotten out of bothering the men in front slipped away at the look in her father's eyes. He was usually jovial and calm, always logical and looking for a solution to a problem instead of panicking. He was an inventor, his mind just worked that way. But he looked sincerely scared and that severely rattled his daughter. He looked her straight in the eye.

"We are in grave danger. You are one of the few people who can save us all. You have to escape. When we stop, I want you to jump out of the carriage. Don't worry about us, we'll be okay. But it's imperative that you survive. Do whatever it takes and don't trust anyone you don't know. For you must return to the Manor." He whispered urgently.

"But father –" Serena hissed.

"We can not talk anymore or they will be suspicious. When I give the signal you must go." He turned away from her, refusing to meet her confused gaze.

They passed the next few hours in relative silence. It began to get dark and, one by one, they each fell asleep. Serena awoke before her parents to find the moon high in the sky. He parents, sitting across from her in the carriage, were leaning against each other, snoring.

She stared at them for a moment. There was something they weren't telling her, and she felt that it might be a while before she knew. Who were these men and where were they taking them? And why them? Also, what was so important about her? _Maybe once I'm gone, they'll let my parents go._ Serena reasoned to herself.

She thought back on everything her father had told her. When you have a problem you have to have enough information to know what it was, and somewhere in there was the solution. He father had always said that. Well, her problem was that her family had apparently been kidnapped and that she had to escape. Without them.

She frowned at this. Her father had never steered her wrong, but… no, she had to do it. She had never seen that look on his face, ever. It had been past serious. It had been life and death. Did that mean that her parent's lives were in her hands? Was that what he meant by 'us all'? These questions were getting her nowhere.

She shivered. The night was cold, and although she was wearing a traveling shawl, she didn't have a blanket. She looked back up at the moon, as if it might, for some reason, hold the answer.

_Help._ She thought at it. Then, as if the moon had done something, the carriage jolted to a stop. Her parents awoke abruptly, and her father quickly rubbed the bleariness from his face. He looked at her piercingly, reminding her of their earlier conversation.

Suddenly he moved forward and hugged her, followed closely by an equally loving mother. For a moment she couldn't breath, feeling a bit crushed between them. Then the carriage door was practically ripped open and a face was jutted into the doorway.

"Come-" He began, but was cut off by a kick from my father. The man fell to the ground, dazed. And luckily for them, the other members of the group were nowhere in sight.

"Go!" Her father practically pushed her from the carriage as the other man, hearing the thump, came around from the front.

Serena jumped down and ran into the bushes, screaming when hands whipped out of the blackness surrounding her, trying to grab hold. She ducked under the first set and plowed right past the second. But the third caught her arm. She twisted around and bit it, hearing a yelp of pain, and ran on, tripping over roots and running into branches.

But, from the sounds around her, her pursuers were having the same problems. And they were much larger than she was. They were also making enough noise that it must have been hard for them to figure out which way Serena was going.

Then, suddenly, she found herself knee deep in a stream, about to be swept over by the current. She turned back toward the shore and jumped toward a boulder. She climbed onto it and jumped from it to another. _Stepping stones_, she though.

But just as she thought she would make it, she landed on a patch of moss. She flailed about, her hands in the air, dropping her shawl, which flew into the stream and became caught on an overhanging branch a few hundred feet downstream.

Serena regained her balance and jumped to the shore before she could lose anything else. She paused for a moment, wondering whether or not it would be a good idea to try and rescue her shawl, then heard a splash from the other shore.

Realizing that the masked men were probably catching up, she ran again, only slightly put off by her squelching shoes. Then she stopped, realizing that she didn't hear anyone behind her. Turning around, she peered through the trees.

She saw a man pointing down stream, in the direction of her shawl… her shawl! They must think that she had fallen in and drowned. Serena crossed her fingers. Yes, they were leaving! The men turned around and trudged back the other way.

Serena turned and started to walk away from the stream… then realized that she had no idea where she was. She knew that she was going home, but she wasn't at all sure of what direction that would be in. Her best bet was to simply follow the stream. It would probably eventually lead to a river or lake, which would probably have towns somewhere along them, or at least roads.

She turned back to the river, keeping a cover of trees between it and her the entire time, just in case, as the bandits might have stayed. Serena tried to ignore her freezing legs and feet, almost succeeding when the breeze blew past her, making her shiver as she wished that she had saved her shawl anyway. She stumbled on, cold and hungry as she hadn't eaten since early that afternoon.

It was nearing dawn when she saw the road. At first she wasn't sure if it was only a clearing, but as the sun came up she rejoiced at the glimmer of paving stones. That meant she was near a real city. A real city meant people and help and … people she didn't know. All night her father's words had echoed through her head. 'Don't trust people you don't know'. Hardly poetic, but it had struck her thoroughly.

She debated with herself for a moment. She finally turned toward the road, deciding that she could simply follow it to a landmark she knew and find her way home from there. It was only a day more by carriage, which was perhaps three days by foot. Or was it? And regardless, there was the problem of food. There would be vendors along the way, and Serena had a few coins left from the pocket money her parents had given her to spend in the markets of Lanat, the capitol of Opyll. There might be road-way vendors. Who she couldn't trust.

Serena decided to face that problem when it arose and started walking parallel to the road, ignoring her feet which had turned from numb to blistered very quickly, and her stomach, which felt as though it were imploding. And soon, she was attempting to ignore her mouth, too, which was becoming paper-dry.

After what seemed like hours to her, she heard the sounds of water. Serena stumbled toward it, an almost unbearable thirst crawling up her throat. When she finally burst through the bushes she was awarded with a neat little streamlet, deep enough to have clear water yet small enough that there was no fear of being pushed over by the current.

She fell to her knees next to the water and, ignoring decorum, thrust her head in.

When she was no longer thirsty, she swung around and let her feet cool in the water, looking around for any form of food. And, amazingly, she found a grove of berries right next to her head. She plucked one off the bush and dropped it into her mouth. It was sweet and tangy, and soon she was hovering over the plant, grabbing as many as she could, as if they would all disappear in a moment if she didn't get them now.

She only stopped when she couldn't see anymore on the bush. Although she was far from full, as no number of berries can ever make anyone really full, she lay back on the grass and stared up at the sky. And slowly, slowly, she drifted off to sleep.

Serena awoke with a gasp. She had dreamed of dark shadows, looking for her everywhere. All the fear from the night before came rushing back. She looked up at the sky. It was late afternoon. It would be dark soon. She had to go… somewhere… back to the road. She had to get away.

A hysteria had enveloped her. Her father's speech haunted her once again, and she fought back tears at the thought of her parents. She shot up and rushed back the way she had come, back toward the road. The blood whooshed back through her body, but she ignored the dizziness and broke into a run. It was five minutes later, with the road less than 50 feet in front of her, when the berries hit. She dropped to the ground, a hand on her stomach. It felt as though it were about to explode. But she had to get to the road.

Serena crawled forward slowly, scratching her arms on twigs and roots, barely noticing the pain in her arms as she tried to ignore the pain in her stomach. And when she finally reached the road and stopped, exhaustion overwhelmed her and she slipped into blessed unconsciousness.


	4. Arnalia 2

**Hey, it's the obligatory a/n. Obligatory. That is such an awful word. Awkward is also an awkward word. Like, awkw... anyway, I wanted to know if you thought I should update chapters seperately or a Serena and an Arna together. Because I wrote the Serena awhile ago, and just finished the Arna at 11 last night. So much for going to be at 9... But, it's all for you, my one fan: _PEARLWALRUS! _**

Do you want your name in lights? Just reveiw, and it can happen, I'll even respond! In long, drawn out, run-on sentances that are probably beyond human comprehension, but I'll respond anyway.

**Disclaimer: I've always just wanted to do a disclaimer. Technically, I don't need one, since it's all mine, except for a few references to some _real _Fairy tales. **

**And now, without further ado, a chapter without a title because that's pretty much the bounds of my creativity. Have fun reading!**

**Chapter 2**

The Training Grounds at the Stadium rung with the sounds of steel hitting steel. Today was the first round of the semi-annual fencing tournament. Prince Griffon and his friend Henry had finished their duels and were watching their friend Jack compete with someone from the city of Gherald.

The man from Gherald had him backed against a wall, and was about to swing his sword around for a final blow when Jack crouched and darted around him, coming up and tripping the man from behind. The man went down, Jack knocked his sword away and drove his chalk-covered sword point down onto the man's neck, scoring the required red dot.

His two friends cheered and the three of them headed over to the water table, filling their cups as they waited to hear who had gone on to the next round.

Henry broke the short silence, as usual. "I head that a Princess from Opyll is staying at the Palace during the Hunt."

Jack grinned at the expression of dread spreading over the Prince's face. "The _single _one?"

Henry caught on and grinned too. "Oh, yes, the one _still on the marriage market_?"

"Will you guys shut up? I knew there was something going on. Mother had that 'marriage' look on her face this morning. When will she accept the fact that I will not be set up with someone? _Just _because she fell in love with Dad, she seems to think that I will like whoever she finds. Remember Lady Lara?"

"How could we forget? When she wasn't attached to you she was screeching at everyone else trying to find you. Good thing they don't let women in here, or else you'd have probably been married by now." Henry shook his head at the memory.

Jack smiled again. "I wouldn't be so quick to judge this one. I've heard that Princes Arnalia is a knock-out. Blonde hair, blue eyes, the works."

Grif snorted. His friend was famous for his fancies of the month. Many a Lady had returned home from court heartbroken from his fickle ways. "Somehow I don't think that she's looking for a Knight's son. Especially not one who was just recently _rejected _by a woman. You really ought to work on that manly strut thing. Just telling you, you could definitely work on your technique."

Henry laughed. "Is that a challenge?"

Jack adopted a jokingly angry voice. "I, Jack the magnificent, challenge you, Prince Griffon, to a manly strut contest."

Griffon struggled to keep his face straight. "I, Prince Griffon, accept your challenge, Jack the ma-" Grif's voice cracked and he felt a grin breaking through. "Jack the magnificent. What are the terms?"

"Loser has to… has to… admit to the other's superiority and… and the winner gets to throw water in their face. Henry will judge."

"Deal. When and where?"

"Here and now. Ready? Go!"

Grif and Jack began to walk around in circles, puffing out their chests and looking as manly as possible, while Henry keeled over in laughter and just barely missed knocking over the water table. Instead, he tripped over his own feet and ended up sprawled on the ground. Jack and Griffon stopped walking and laughed at their friend, who was sheepishly picking himself up.

Suddenly Grif and Jack stopped laughing, staring at something behind Henry. He turned and gasped. A blonde-haired beauty was staring right back at them, an eyebrow raised above a delicate sneer. She was wearing a long flowing dress, boots, and, strangely enough, gloves.

Jack, of course, was the first one to recover. "Excuse me, milady." He bowed elaborately. "Pray tell, what is a young maiden such as yourself doing in such a place?" He waved his hand through the air emphatically. "I do hope that our… contest has not offended you."

"No, actually, it was rather amusing." She grinned. "I think it was a tie."

"What… what are you doing here?" Grif finally sputtered, oh-so-tactfully. _A _girl_ in the Stadium!_

The girl's face changed abruptly. Her lips tightened from a smile to a look of annoyance and the affable air about her dissolved. "Are you suggesting that I _shouldn't_ be here?"

"Well, no, I wasn't." The Prince was taken aback by her anger. "Wait… yes, I was. The Stadium is off-limits to females except during public events."

She gave a little huff, but whatever she was going to say was cut off by the second female voice of the afternoon.

"Arna! What do you think you are doing?" Another girl hurried towards them, encumbered by a much larger skirt than the first girl's. She dropped a quick curtsy then grabbed her friend's arm, beginning to pull her away. "We need to get out of here!"

The first girl turned her smoldering look on the second. "Why?" She snapped with more vehemence than was necessary.

The second girl wasn't phased, instead looking over at the three fencers with amusement, as if trying to identify the receiver of her friend's wrath. "Because we're not supposed to be here, and the guards saw me, so if you don't want to be dragged out, in front of all these nice gentlemen, then I suggest we leave immediately."

The first girl looked around quickly, her gaze settling on the three burly men leaving the entrance and searching through the crowds. "WHY can _NOTHING_ go right on this trip?" She whined loudly and followed her friend, leaving three very confused people behind.

A moment later, Jack turned around. "So, who won?" Grif tripped him.

­­­­­­­­­

A few minutes later, Sophie and Arna managed to squeeze out the door and collect their horses from the conveniently placed stables next to the Stadium. As soon as they were safely away, they slowed their horses to a walk and Sophie turned toward her friend.

"I can't wait to hear this one." She said, laughing. "Who _were _they?"

"Jack the magnificent," Arna laughed, "Henry, and… Prince Griffon."

Sophie winced. "Of course. It just _had_ to be a prince. A knight would have been ok. Even the son of a Lord. But a Prince. You know, you have a veritable _talent _for getting yourself into these sorts of situations. We are going to meet him at dinner, and he's going to do something like choke on his soup and then _everyone _will know that we were at the Stadium and your father will send us home and we'll have to endure another two week trip of doom."

Arna blinked. "You are such a pessimist. I doubt that the prince is going to choke and just suddenly blurt out 'Princess Arnalia and Lady Sophile were at the Stadium!'. Then again, judging on what I've seen of him so far, he may very well do just that."

Sophie, forgetting her tirade, grinned. "Exactly what _was_ he doing?"

"They were having a manly strut contest." Arna snorted. "It was ridiculous. I heard someone yell 'Jack the Magnificent' and went to see what it was. I assumed you were right behind me. Anyway, while you were off attracting the guard's attention, the Prince suggested that just because I was female I shouldn't have been there."

"Well, you shouldn't have been there. It's against the law. You really aught to know that, seeing as it is you apparently know _everything_ about the Stadium. And what were you going to do in there anyway? Join in the Fencing Competition?" Sophie said pointedly.

"No. I don't do fencing." Arna glanced down at her gloved hands, hands she hadn't really seen bare since her 16th birthday, over a year ago. "You know that." She said quietly.

She had Pulcherima Dormins, or the Sleeping Beauty curse. It was in her father's side of the family. Her sister had gone through it too, but hers was a milder case and when she had accidentally pricked her finger had only been asleep for 100 hours before waking up, fully cured. Arna had the full-on curse, and her father had insisted that she wear gloves all the time until she found her true love. Then she would have to prick her finger and he would have to kiss her. It was a terribly complicated process. But it probably meant that she would be wearing gloves till the day she died.

They were silent for a while. Sophie knew how much her friend resented her disease, and hadn't meant to mention it. She was horribly lucky to have found her own true love. There was some depressing statistic about how many people ended up with people they didn't really like. Sophie didn't like to think about it.

Arna finally broke the silence as they were nearing the palace. "Do you think dinner's going to be soon?"

Sophie's head snapped up, she had been daydreaming about seeing Evan again, again. "What?"

"You were daydreaming about him again, weren't you?" Arnalia's smile had returned and she giggled. "You have no idea what you look like when you do that."

Sophie huffed a bit. "Well, I don't make fun of _you _when _you _do that."

"But _I _don't daydream."

"Well, maybe you should."

Arna snorted at the lame comeback and caught sight of the palace gates. "Come on, let's race!" She said, excitedly.

"No thanks." Sophie said quickly.

"Why not?"

"Because you are an awful loser and an even worse winner." Sophie said evenly.

"I am not!"

"You are too. Whenever you win, you go on about it for days, and when you lose you get angry and leave in a huff."

"Name one time that has ever happened!"

"Ok, the time I beat you at chess at that inn 4 days ago."

"My head hurt and I wanted to go lie down."

"Um-hmm. And what about last week when you won at cards 8 times in a row and wouldn't stop talking about it, practically until I fell asleep. And, for all I know, you might have still been talking."

"That was because _you _were being a sore loser and _you _were trying to drop the subject."

"_I _was tired."

"Um-hmm." Arna copied her friend jokingly.

"Hey!" Sophie exclaimed, startling the guards on either side of the palace gates. They recognized the two of them and waved them through, slamming the gate back down behind them. Arna shivered.

"This place is such a fortress! What are they afraid of? Ever since the founding of the Union of Kingdoms there hasn't been a real attack by anyone stronger than that rebel group, almost a hundred years ago. And they were almost 100 miles from the palace, not even in the same country." Their horses' feet made that lovely ringing sound against the cobblestones as they slowed and neared the stables.

"Perhaps it's just always been this way. The Union's only been around for 200 years. Even the palace at home has arrow slits all over the place." Sophie shrugged.

"Yes, but those offer lighting in dark passageways. They're decorative." The two girls dismounted and handed their horses to the grooms then walked through the gardens toward the palace's side entrance. "And just look at this garden. A few roses and a bench or two. I mean, really! Where's the beauty, the mystery, the romance?"

"I thought you weren't interested in romance." Sophie teased.

"Did I ever say that? All _I _said was that I'm not romantically interested in anyone right now. And I would do _anything _to get these dratted gloves off." She glared reproachfully at her hands. "Even fall in love."

Sophie rolled her eyes. "You say it like it's a bad thing."

"From what I can tell, it is." Arna looked at her friend pointedly. "I wonder how many of your vocal cords you've snapped from all your crying, screaming, moaning, dramatic gasping, etc… It just all seems much too dramatic."

"As if you aren't a dramatic person! It'd be right up your alley."

"I _am not_ a dramatic person!" Arna practically stomped her foot.

They had reached the palace and entered the marble side hall. They stopped, not knowing which way to go. Arna spotted a maid, walking down another hall.

"Excuse me, maid!" She adopted her princess voice, letting it carry down the echoing hall without a hint of a yell. "I am the Princess Arnalia, and this is the Lady Sophile. We would be much obliged if you would direct us toward our suites."

The maid looked half-terrified, faced so suddenly with two nobles. She curtseyed quickly and set down the bag of laundry she had been carrying. "This way, my lady, your highness."

"No, no, that's alright, we'll just take directions." Arna smiled comfortingly down at the girl, wondering underneath her façade why it was always female servants who were scurrying down hallways.

The maid looked even more frightened. She didn't actually know the way to those particular rooms, just the location of the guest quarters. She had actually been hoping to run into someone else who would know. So she had only one option. She would have to give extremely complicated directions. That way, when the ladies got lost, they would think they had taken a wrong turn. She felt a bit guilty.

"Of course, your Highness. Simply take the first left down here, then go up the first set of stairs you see. At the top, go forward until you have passed a hallway and a statue of the Red Knight. Take the first right, then your first left, then another left…"

A minute later, Arna thanked the maid profusely and walked down the hallway. In truth, all she remembered was the first left. After that… she was hoping she would run into another servant.

As soon as they were out of hearing distance, Sophie grinned. "Not dramatic, eh?"

"What?" Arna said intelligently, herself again.

"In a moment you go from gracious lady to… well… you. I hardly consider that a lack of drama. I told you romance would agree with you."

Arna rolled her eyes. "Ok, A) That was me being a Princess, I have to do it everyday, that doesn't count and B) The whole drama thing doesn't prove anything. I have to find someone I love first."

Sophie shrugged. "Whatever."

"Will you stop saying that?" Arna said reproachfully.

Sophie just laughed.

About 10 minutes later they were hopelessly lost. Not only was the area they were in apparently devoid of servants, or rather anyone at all. Well, no one besides a few portraits and what Sophie swore was a rat, but Arna thought was just a shadow. Finally, Sophie just stopped, stomping her foot.

"This is getting ridiculous!" She reached into her dress and drew out a necklace. It was red and heart-shaped. Arna rolled her eyes at her friend's sigh. "I never thought that I would need this."

"What is it?" Arna regretted her question almost immediately as her friend smiled even more gushingly.

"Evan gave it to me." Arna held back a sarcastic statement at Sophie's tone. "It has a finding spell on it."

"So that if you ever get lost you can find your way back to him?" Arna couldn't help it.

"How did you know?" Sophie said sincerely.

"Just get us _out _of here!" Arna whined.

"Fine." Sophie closed her eyes and held the necklace up. It floated in the air and pointed right.

Arna was surprised. "No magic word or anything? Not even a stupid dance!"

Sophie laughed. "That kind of magic has been out of fashion for centuries."

Within half an hour they had reached their respective rooms, and Sophie flopped down once more on her bed, massaging her sore feet. She could have stayed there forever, but much too soon there was a knock at the door. Sophie got up grudgingly, praying that it wasn't Arna with another scheme that would require a half-hour hike through a marble-floored castle. Luckily for her, however, it was only a maid.

"I was sent to get you ready for dinner milady." She said, curtseying. When she looked up, Sophie was relieved to see that she wasn't the same one who had given them directions.

"Of course, dinner." Sophie said wryly. Perfect timing.


	5. Serena 3

The girl had been asleep for three days, on and off. The few times she had been conscious it had only been to yell feverishly for her mother, her father, even her shawl. Gan was beginning to believe that they should have left her where they'd found her. He had argued with Larn for almost a half hour before he had finally consented to letting her come along. And now she was slowing down the Caravan.

Even Gan's wife, Mara, was beginning to lose her maternal instinct. She had found the girl and promised Gan no peace until he gave in to letting her help the child. The thought of having to answer to his wife had been the driving force in his argument with Larn, the Caravan's elected leader.

Larn had finally agreed, on the one condition that she would be left in Chitret, the closest city. And Gan had been only too happy to agree. He already had 4 children, 3 sons and a daughter. He didn't need another.

As if on cue, Elli burst from their wagon and ran toward her father, excited. They had stopped for the night and he had come out into the fresh air, needing relief from the stuffy medical feeling that had taken over his Wagon.

"Father, father, come quick! She's awake!"

Gan's head shot up. If she was awake, that meant she was getting better. And the sooner she got better, they sooner she was out of their hands. He followed his daughter back in, startled to see the girl sitting up. Her eyes were wide and she had a wild look about her, with hair tangled from three days in bed and who-knew-what else puffing out around her face.

"… afraid, dear. We're here to help. You've been asleep a long time." Mara was still sitting on the little stool next to the cot, speaking soothingly. "It's been three days since we found you by the edge of the woods."

The girl frowned a bit. "Three days?"

"Yes, child." Mara looked up and caught sight of her husband, beckoning him forward. "This is my husband, Gan. I am Mara." She paused, waiting for the girl to say her name.

She paused as well, as if thinking deeply. Finally she said, "I am Rina."

It was obvious that the name was made up. Mara frowned and opened her mouth, but Gan cut her off; it didn't matter what the child's name was as long as she wasn't sick any longer. "Nice to meet you Rina. May I ask how you are feeling?"

Mara turned her frown on her husband, silently chastising him for his insensitivity.

"I feel… tired, I suppose." 'Rina' answered quietly.

"Of course you do, Rina. You ate Ginsa berries, didn't you? They're red and grow near water. You can tell by the red blotches of skin that appear on the face and hands; you've had a lot of them." Mara pointed to the spots on her fingers.

The girl frowned again. "Oh, I see." She paused. "I'm sorry if I was any sort of an inconvenience."

Gan suddenly noticed Rina's accent. She didn't seem to be from around here. Her voice was a bit nasal, like the Ilians, in the east. If she was from Ilian, she was a far way from home. Almost a week on foot.

"Of course not!" Mara said indignantly and instinctively began to fuss over the poor girl, plumping the pillows at her back and pulling the covers up as far as they would reach. "And you'll be staying here for another two days at least, regaining your strength. I've seen cases where Ginsa has killed; you were very lucky."

Gan winced inwardly at the mention of two more days. Another two days before she would even be able to do a chore or two. Another two days when all his wife's time was taken up caring for the mysterious child they'd found half-dead by the side of the road.

He glanced toward the little box where'd they'd put her jewelry. She had been wearing a hair clip that, although a bit scratched, looked quite valuable as well as a pair of jade earrings and a gold ring. Her clothes looked fine, beneath the dirt, and her tone was sophisticated and polite.

Gan would have suspected that she was noble, but for her condition. Nobles protected their children well, and had it been known that she was missing, there would be patrol-upon-patrol of soldiers out looking for her. It was more likely that she was a servant's child turned thief. Or a merchant's daughter who had come with her father on a trip and gotten lost. That was it. The daughter of a merchant.

Mara instructed Elli to feed Rina a weak broth and some warmed milk, all her stomach would be able to manage. Then she ushered her husband out, stopping just outside and looking back worriedly.

"There's something very strange about that girl." She said, frowning a bit.

"No, no, I've already thought it through, and she's most likely a merchant's daughter who's been separated from her father's traveling group. She's heard the rumor of bandits and most likely all the tales told about the Ravi being murderers and scamps. That's why she doesn't trust us with her real name. But at least she's _consciou_s enough to not trust us. That means she's getting better, and that means that we'll be able to leave her in the city." Gan said quickly, trying to divert his wife's mind before she made the girl one of her 'special cases'.

Mara was famous, occasionally infamous, for the way she had of getting involved in everyone's life. She knew what was happening with everyone, all the time, sometimes before they knew it themselves. People came to her for advice and occasionally she would come to them, whether or not they wanted her to. And every once in awhile she would sort-of adopt someone until she deemed them 'well' again, physically _and_ mentally.

"I doubt it." Mara replied. "She doesn't seem like a merchant's daughter." Gan got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Of course she is! And if she isn't, I doubt it matters much anyway. She looks like a sensible young lady and I'm sure that if it would help her, she would have told you her name and why she's here. Or she will. Which is why we ought to head right back in there. And so she'll get well soon!" And Gan was fairly pushing his wife back inside the wagon, straight into Elli, who was in the process of jumping down and almost kicked her mother in the face.

"Elli?" Gan had hoped to get his wife inside and distracted before she began the inevitable process of wearing him down.

First she would say 'I'm not sure if they're _alright _Gan. Can't we help them just a little longer?' and then Gan would search for some reason why they couldn't that wouldn't make Mara say 'Oh, you're heartless! They're staying, and there's nothing you can say about it!' then storm away. Because then it was the end. There was no reasoning with her after that.

But in the end Gan always gave in anyway, because he knew just how awful his life would get if he refused. Little glares constantly being directed at him from his wife and whoever she had told, constant pointed remarks about how much so-and-so's family was helping, ill-prepared meals.

Gan hoped that by simply avoiding the topic he could also avoid the ensuing chaos. Just two more days and she would be gone. Five days altogether. The last time one of their 'guests' had been through that fast had been the baby rabbit Tai had brought home, and that was only because he had died a few hours later.

But Elli had come out, which _could _mean that the girl had died, but probably didn't. Gan shuddered to himself. That thought _had _been heartless.

"Don't worry, nothing's wrong. She just asked if she could feed herself and I felt strange just sitting there and watching her eat, and I couldn't think of anything to say, so I came out here." Elli said quickly, seeing the look on her mother's face.

"You left her alone! She could… she could… You did tell her to yell if she wanted anything, right?" Mara's panic dissipated and she turned back to her husband, remembering her point. "And I don't think she's a merchant's daughter. Did you hear that accent? She's from Ilian, I'm sure of it. And her jewelry. It was expensive! Her dress too, it _was _fine. Few merchants would wear that much finery on a simple trip, or let their daughters wear it. And how did she manage to get separated from him so much? Wandering about in the woods, eating Ginsa berries. And her father would undoubtedly sent people out looking for her. No, no, there's something more going on here."

Gan felt his hopes slip away. "But… but, if there is, then she'll probably tell us. Tomorrow, maybe. After she's gotten over the shock of walking up in a Ravi caravan. Until then, maybe we should just leave it. No use worrying over something we don't even knew about!"

Mara rolled her eyes at her husband's ill-disguised attempt to keep Rina from becoming one of her special patients. "Fine, dear. We'll wait until tomorrow. But we _will _discuss this tomorrow." She said threateningly.

Mara walked away, toward the community fire circle that was being formed two wagons over. Gan shook his head. Sometimes he wondered why he had ever married her.

Serena watched the girl leave the wagon. Elli. _That's a nice name. _She thought idly.

Her head still swam a bit and she was hungry. Very hungry. Three days? Her thoughts swarmed about, forming into little sentence-lets before swimming off again. She had felt perfectly calm when the people were in the wagon. Surprisingly. Or, rather, more sort of surprised.

She hadn't known what to think, so she had been able to concentrate on what was going on, instead of thinking. About something. She didn't know exactly what she was supposed to be thinking about.

But alarms had gone off in her head when they asked about her name. So she lied. And then… two more days? Till she was better? And how did she feel, really? Tired. Head-ache. Her stomach hurt, a little. Her body felt stiff. Three days. Why was it always three days? Always. Did the body just sleep for three days? Was it really a magic number?

Serena sipped at her broth. It was bland. And her milk was too. At home, she usually got a little bit of cinnamon, sprinkled on top. But she wasn't at home. Where was she?

The three people – there was that number again – they had dark skin. Well, not very dark really. More… cinnamon colored. Except not quite so red.

Serena looked around, suddenly realizing that she was in a bed in the middle of a wagon. That was obvious. There was a large opening across from her, and she could see the half circle shaped tarp over her head. And she wasn't on a bed, really. More like a mattress and some blankets.

The wagon was surprisingly neat. Most wagons Serena had seen looked like giant junk heaps. But here… along one side, neatly arranged and contained so they wouldn't shift, were boxes and bags of what looked like food. A few clumps of herbs hung down from the ceiling and there was a little pile of firewood in the very corner.

The other side was mostly bare, except for a stool and a thick roll of cloth that could have been another 'bed'. But in the corner next to the opening was a display that almost made Serena gasp.

Colorful scarves and jewelry gleamed playfully out from wooden boxes; a glass orb rested, gleaming, on a bed of red cloth; brightly colored balls and long sticks poked out from among the mass.

_These people were Ravi!_ Serena really did gasp with her realization. Small groups, Caravans, traveled the world, carrying with them the workings of a small circus, complete with dancers, fortunetellers, clowns and acrobats. But they were widely considered to be thieves. Although many would come to see their performances, few actually trusted the performers and it wasn't uncommon to see people in the crowd actually holding their coin pouches.

But Serena's mother had spent time with the Ravi, many years before. She said that they were like everyone else; some were thieves and scoundrels but others were the most wonderful people you would ever meet. And still others were relatively normal, except that they could pluck a bouquet of daisies out of a hat. It was simply their misfortune to be always strangers, for the Ravi did not even have a kingdom to call their own.

Serena felt a chill creep down her spine. The Ravi. Lady Kristin had always smiled when she talked of them, as if remembering something wistfully. But whenever Serena asked, she just shook her head and said 'I'll tell you when you're older' which, of course, only around Serena's curiosity more. But now… now… she might never hear that story.

Serena yawned and ate her soup at quickly as she could before settling back down into her little bed. She was overtaken again by the feeling of exhaustion that was becoming all too familiar and slipped into sleep once more.


	6. Arnalia 3

**Chap 3**

Arna grinned and couldn't help twirling in front of the mirror. She had just had her first real bath in two weeks and was delighting in the feeling of silk against her legs again. She loved dresses. Pants were ok, and convenient for combat practice, but dresses she _loved_.

She surprised a lot of people with her dual personality. One moment she was yelling and screaming at people on a dirty field in leggings and a cotton shirt and the next she had her hair up in an elaborate twist above a carefully made up face and a poufy silk dress. Arna loved both.

And the dress she was wearing tonight was new. The first time in an outfit was always fun. It was light blue, with tiny diamonds sewn up the side and an old-fashioned hoop skirt, with a slit up the side revealing a white under-skirt. It had a high, round neck and long bell-shaped sleeves. It was rather conservative, but that didn't mean it wasn't pretty.

And Arna had thought about it. She supposed that it must have been a little stupid to go to the Stadium, and was trying to make up for it by presenting an image completely at odds with the person who had laughed at the Prince a few hours ago.

But mainly, she thought that it would be fun to see the _look_ on his face.

Arna twirled one last time before her father entered her room. He nodded approvingly at her appearance before launching into the 'you're at someone else's castle tonight, and I expect you to behave' speech.

His daughter shook her head up and down at appropriate times, having heard it so many times that she didn't really have to pay attention, and was actually wondering whether or not to wear her pearl necklace. It matched the dress, but it might be a bit too much. In the end she decided that she looked fine how she was and tuned back into her father's voice.

"… and, above all, remember your manners." He looked sternly down at his daughter, knowing all too well where her temper could take her.

"I know, I know!" Arna smiled winningly and pulled her father toward the door. "I'll even remember to keep my elbows off the table."

Her father rolled his eyes and closed the door behind them as they walked toward Sophie's room. Then they would all walk down to dinner together and make as grand an entrance as possible, or so Arna hoped.

A servant appeared out of nowhere and directed them, simply, toward Sophie's room. The King waved him off before he took it upon himself to lead them there. They walked for a few moments in easy silence. Then,

"What do you think of the city?" The King's voice drifted down to his daughter.

Arna faltered suddenly. How did he know that she had seen the city? If Sophie hadn't approved, Arna didn't want to think about her father's reaction. Maybe he just meant the brief trip through in the carriage. Arna recovered and mentally crossed her fingers.

"I haven't really seen much of it, but I've heard that it's a fascinating place. That's why I wanted to come, after all." Arna almost stopped breathing in the moments before her father's answer.

"I meant your little trip this afternoon." Arna let out a shallow gasp, her chest suddenly clinching. Her father's voice had lost its light, amiable air. "I will be gone for most of your stay here. I expect you to act like the Princess you are at all times. We are not longer in Opyll. There are different rules here, and even you can not bypass them. I want you to promise," The King's eyes bored into the top of his daughter's blonde head, "_promise _to behave while I'm gone."

Arna considered lying for a moment, then looked up into her father's face. It was worried, loving instead of the serious expression she had expected and she felt her resolve weaken.

"I… I promise not to get into any trouble." She squeaked out a bit.

There was a moment of tense silence.

Then her father gave a short laugh. "I suppose that's the best I'm going to get out of you."

Arna grinned and hmphed indignantly, jokingly letting go of his arm and walking the rest of the short distance to her friend's door ahead of him, knocking loudly a moment later.

Sophie opened the door with a look of dread written clearly across her face. She was wearing a corset. She hated corsets. Arna laughed at her and yanked her, for the second time that day, from her sanctuary.

Sophie curtseyed quickly to the king, who offered the arm not taken up by his daughter. She accepted, trying not to think too hard on the last time she had taken someone's arm. Evan…

The three of them were met by a servant who led them the rest of the way to the dining hall, a conveniently short distance for Sophie, whose feet still hurt. As they turned the last corner and saw the great oak doors leading to the hall, the servant scurried ahead to announce them. Sophie's pace quickened and she glanced across the King at her best friend.

Arna pointed at her father and mouthed 'he KNOWS' at her friend, then straightened as the doors opened and they walked into the grand room. Arna smiled winningly, the King adopted his Kingly expression of wisdom, and Sophie tried not to look too scared.


	7. Serena 4

**Ok, so, I have no _real _excuse for the chapter being so late. It would have been in yesterday except that my account wouldn't work. It was very frustrating. Anyway, I don't know anything about Gypsies - I didn't do any real research - so let's assume that the Ravi are _not_my version of Gypsies, but instead something completely different. Also, I'm positive I missed something when I was editing, so can someone tell me where it is? Thanks.**

Recap: Serena of Springwood's parents have been mysteriously kidnapped and, after falling ill because of poisonous berries, she had been taken in by a Caravan of Ravi

Serena awoke suddenly as everything around her began to jerk and rustle. The floor was moving!

It took her awhile to realize that it was simply the Wagon moving off. Her heartbeat went back down and she took a deep breath, rolling her eyes at herself a little. She glanced around the Wagon. The same neat, ordered vision greeted her, except for the little corner full of scarves and glass balls – in the sunlight, they gleamed even brighter than before.

Next to the scarves was Elli, propped up on a cushion and sewing up a hole in a dress. Sitting across from her was a boy who was throwing a bright green ball straight up in the air and catching it, over and over. Then, while the green ball was in the air, he threw a yellow one and caught the green one, threw it, caught the yellow one, threw it…

"You're awake."

Serena was startled out of her mesmerized state, and blinked stupidly at Elli for a moment. "… yes… I am."

"Well, maybe not _awake_." Elli giggled. "Are you hungry?"

Serena nodded. Elli stood up – stabilizing herself easily in the rocking Wagon – and sat down next to Serena, propping her up on some pillows. She handed Serena a thin slice of something that looked like bread, but smelled strongly of nutmeg and cinnamon. It was warm, and melted on her tongue.

"It's netcha. Good, huh?"

Serena nodded, and ate the rest quickly.

"Mother said to give you two slices and some water. We have to keep your stomach settled."

Serena nodded again, content to let Elli talk. The boy in the corner had barely looked up since the beginning of the exchange. He added a blue ball, and began traditional three ball juggling. Serena had always been jealous of people who could do that.

After she finished her breakfast, she dozed off again. She felt so inexplicably tired, even after three days of sleep. When she woke up again, the boy had left and Elli was reading in the corner. Serena lay back and stared at the canvas that covered the roof of the wagon. She felt leadenly heavy, like she couldn't possibly be strong enough to lift her little finger. Just to test, she lifted her hand, and was almost surprised that her armed worked.

Suddenly, a gray-green scarf fluttered into her vision and a spark of fear shot through her. And the memories of the moonlit chase through the forest returned, her parents gone, her shawl lost, her feet blistering and her mouth dry. Serena's heart pounded with the memory and she gave a dry swallow.

People she didn't know… she was trusting people she didn't know, complete strangers. She took a deep breath and tried to be rational. Her father couldn't have meant _everyone _she didn't know. There were some people she knew who she couldn't trust – like the stable boy, who put a frog in her drawer once. And, really, right now she had no choice. They seemed like nice people.

But her heart continued to race, and her palms became sweaty, and it was a long time before Serena could fall asleep again.

The next day, Serena woke up feeling much better. She asked Elli if it would be alright if she got out of bed. She suddenly felt like she had to stretch her legs. Elli helped her up and supported her as she walked carefully around the moving wagon – not very promising first steps, and days in bed made her overwhelmingly dizzy.

But when they stopped later that day for a quick lunch, Serena climbed out, and walked around the Wagon a few times, smiling with joy as the knots in her muscles released. For a few minutes, the fears that had barraged her constantly vanished. She took a deep breath of fresh air, and didn't want to ever go back into the Wagon. Finally, everyone was done eating, and she was helped back in, and sat down once again on the bed she was beginning to loath.

Noticing her boredom, Elli convinced the boy – her brother Ran – to teach Serena how to juggle. Serena spent the rest of the day tossing a ball up and down, then two, and trying to overcome her shyness with the older boy. She was beginning to get the hang of two – which is unexpectedly hard – when the wagon stopped for the night. After dinner, she went back to bed, and fell asleep quickly, surprising herself with how tired she was.

When she woke up, it was to noise and heat. Shadows of people walking outside were projected into the canvas, and the rowdy voices of a crowd surrounded them. Someone had closed the flaps at the back of the Wagon, and the only air getting in was through the bottom, in the gaps between the canvas' ties to the wagon's frame.

Serena sat up, groggily confused. Elli, forever cheerful, laughed.

"We've reached Chitret, Rina."

Over the past two days, Serena had gotten used to her assumed name. "Chitret?"

"We're stopping to do a show."

"Why are the flaps closed?"

Elli smiled. "It keeps the mystery in. If people saw how boring it was in here, they wouldn't come and see us." Serena snorted . "And it keeps the dust out."

Serena didn't say anything. It had suddenly occurred to her that Chitret was the end of the road for her. After this – she would find a way to get back home. Maybe her parents had escaped. Maybe they were looking for her. Maybe…

Perhaps she could sell her jewelry and buy a carriage ride back to Springwood. Did they have those for that long a trip? Maybe she could join a traveling group that was going that way. Or she could buy shorter rides, from city to city. She would get home somehow.

She glanced over at the box with her jewelry in it. Mara had told her where it was, but Serena had left it there. She didn't have any real reason to move it, or any place to move it to.

"Elli."

"Um-hmm?"

"When am I leaving?"

Elli paused. "I don't know."

"Oh."

They passed the next half hour in silence. Finally, the Wagon stopped and Mara came around to open the flaps. Outside was a long, empty expanse, mostly dirt and grass. But already, other Wagons had begun to unload bright cloths and signs, almost as if pulling a fair out of their seemingly normal, but for the symbols and words painted across a few of them, dust-covered Wagons. A small crowd, mostly children, was watching.

"Up and at 'em, girls!" Mara began to tie up the flaps of the wagon. "Rina, would you mind helping us to set-up?"

"Of course not." Serena smiled, mostly relived that she wasn't being immediately kicked out of the Caravan. Not that she really expected it to happen, but her fears had, of recent, begun to fiercely outweigh her logic.

Serena stood up, carefully, glad that her legs didn't immediately buckle under her. She stepped carefully to the ground, helped by Mara, as Elli pulled nine short but sturdy looking wooden poles out of the Wagon.

"I need to go supervise the food stall. After you take those over to Larn's Wagon, came back and have some breakfast. Your brothers are setting up the signs and your father is helping Larn to set up the layout." Mara spoke quickly to her daughter, smiled at Serena, and headed off toward a group of women.

Elli picked up one of the poles, and gestured for Serena to take another. "These are the poles that will hold up the main stage. Larn is the head of our Caravan, and he is given the privilege of keeping the baseboards of the main stage in his wagon."

"He has a whole stage in his wagon?" Serena picked up the foot-long pole and was surprised at how heavy it was.

Elli laughed. "No, it's in four pieces and he stacks one on each wall and two on the bottom of one of his Wagons. His family has two."

"Because he's the head of the Caravan?"

"No, his family has just always had two. Some do. Sometimes they're gained as part of marriage agreements, or a family buys new ones when we reach a city. There's a family with four Wagons, but they have eight children and an aging grandmother to take care of." Elli shifted the pole in her arms. "We have two Wagons, actually. Well, we share it with another family, but it's where my brothers have slept this week."

"Oh! I'm sorry. Did I throw them out?"

Elli glanced back over her shoulder. "No, not really. Well, it wasn't your fault. And they don't mind – the other wagon holds some of the costumes, and the Wagon is much softer than ours."

A little while later, they reached Larn's Wagon. It was in the very center of the long, long arc that had formed all along the edges of the area.

"How many people are in your Caravan?" Serena looked up and down the arc.

"I'm not sure. Maybe a hundred or so… a hundred and twenty? Maybe more." Elli set her pole down, and Serena did the same. The Ravi girl shouted at four men who were pulling a large plank out of the middle Wagon. They turned and nodded, then continued their task. Elli and Serena walked back to pick up more of the poles.

"Are all Caravans this big?" Serena hadn't seen much of it on the road, and it seemed impossible that such a large group could travel so quickly.

"Well, most Caravans are smaller, but about thirty years ago, our Caravan and another Caravan…"

Serena unconsciously tuned out Elli's speech about the Caravans' combination, her attention caught suddenly by the flurry of activity going on around her. The Wagons, at least thirty of them, had created a giant semi-circle in what seemed to be a clearing at the edge of a large city, carved out from the dense forest beyond the Wagons.

But inside the semi-circle, a different kind of forest was growing. Stalls and stages were popping up in what at first seemed random, but slowly sorted itself out into rows and columns. Serena spotted Gan, briefly, pointing a group of people carrying a myriad of scarves toward the correct area. People, who had seemed normal but for the darkness of their skin, popped out of Wagons wearing elaborate costumes, bright gold jewelry, and strange face paints. Plain wooden frames quickly became brilliant stages, mysterious alcoves, and inviting stalls. Delicious scents began to waft from behind curtains; food, drink, and incense combining into a strange, but not unsavory, odor.

As Elli handed the last pole to one of the men, she turned toward the spectacle in front of her. "Amazing, isn't it?"

Serena nodded. "I've never been to one of these… these… what are they called?"

"We call them performances or shows. There isn't a real title for them. They aren't part of our real culture." Elli turned back toward her family's Wagon.

Serena glanced toward her. "What do we do now?"

"It's time for breakfast. Then, if my mother doesn't find us, whatever we want!"

They had two slim pieces of netcha apiece, and some fresh milk someone had bought in the city. Once they were finished, Elli pulled Serena toward the festivities. They wove their way through the lanes, past practicing dancers and half-covered crystal balls, costumed women applying purple powder to each others' faces, people setting up beaten-looking pewter cans and small leather balls.

Elli pointed out the main stage, already half-way constructed. The posts were placed in rows of three and the four pieces of the stage attached to them. Elli explained that there were holes in the stage and the poles, through which the screws could be screwed in and out easily.

Suddenly, Mara appeared out of nowhere, holding a heavy back cloth with fake-looking 'diamond' pendants hanging off the edges. "Girls! Can you take this over to our stall and begin setting up? Thanks!" She dumped the cloth in the girls' arms and hurried off before they could say anything.

Elli rolled her eyes jokingly at her mothers' back. "She found us."

Serena giggled.

Elli spotted one of her brothers darting around a stand. "Ward! Ward!" He whipped around, surprised, then annoyed.

"What?"

"Where's our stall?"

"What?"

"WHERE'S. OUR. STALL?" Elli yelled. Her brother hadn't come any closer.

"Down three, up two that way." Ward ran off.

"Down three, up two?" Serena asked.

"Down three stalls, up two stalls." Elli walked in the direction her brother had pointed, pulling Serena with her. "It's a grid system… sorta. If we were perfect, our stalls would create perfect lanes. But usually, in the process of setting up, we end up forming little side alleys, and lots of people are only visited by the extremely lost. My father and Larn made up some complex system to make sure that it the stalls switch around."

"What kind of stall is this for?" Serena twirled one of the glass balls.

"My mother tells peoples' fortunes." They turned the corner and saw the stall and two teenage boys, one of whom was Ran. "Ran! Tai! I thought you were putting up signs." Elli smiled at her brothers.

They had already set up a table and were piecing together a seven or so foot tall frame. "We only put up three before mother grabbed us and ordered us over here." Tai, the older one, answered. "Hello. Rina, right?"

Serena nodded, desperately trying not to blush. She wasn't around boys much – at least not any boys she hadn't know since she was born, like Jim whose father ran the farm. He was normal – she could talk to him. She could pour water down his back. But with boys she didn't know… Serena tried to suppress the fear that shot through her… she could barely nod. She sighed and tried to control the rush of embarrassment and fear that had come with her thoughts.

"I suppose we're supposed to set up the table. Mom gave us the table cloth." Elli began to set the cloth down on the table, drawing Serena out of her reverie. "Did either of you bring the Ball?"

"No." Ran turned back to the frame.

"Great. Ok, Serena, we need to go back to the Wagon and get it." She turned away from the table.

"Ok." Serena squeaked.

They worked their way back to the Wagons.

"The Ball?" Serena asked. She had noticed the way they had said the word, as if it were capitalized.

"It's a family heirloom. Our family has a history of Fortune Telling. My Great-Grandmother was famous for it. People said she could tell someone's future just from looking at them. Her father gave her the Ball."

"Really? I always wondered if the whole idea was real or not." Serena glanced at Elli, surprised.

"Oh, it is! Well… sometimes. My grandmother inherited the Ball and the stand, and my mother inherited it from her. I'm not sure about my grandmother, but I know that my mother doesn't have any actual skill. She guesses most of it, or makes up something general enough to believe. For example, the whole 'Tall, Dark Stranger' thing." Elli shrugged.

"What about you?" Serene asked quietly.

"I don't know… It's said that such talent skips a few generations… But…" Elli trailed off.

They continued on in silence. When they reached the Wagon, Elli climbed inside and passed first the glass Ball Serena had seen before, and then a small circular stand out to Serena.

Once they returned to the stand, they spread the cloth out, the glass balls on the ends forming a sort of fringe around the table. They set the Ball, the much larger version of the table cloths' fringe, carefully in the center. Elli draped a thin, purple scarf over it, and they stood back to admire the table. A moment later, the two boys finished putting up the frame.

"Where's the Stall Cloth?" Ran asked.

"In the Wagon, I suppose." Elli replied.

"I thought you were going to get it." Tai said.

"Ha!" Elli exclaimed. "Now we're even!" She giggled.

"Well… can you get it?" Ran asked.

"No! You get it yourself." Elli snorted at her brothers.

"Fine, we will." Tai said, angry for no other reason than he was talking to his sister.

Serena smiled as they walked away. "Is that what it's like to have siblings?" She asked.

"I supposed so. You're an only child?" Elli shrugged.

"Um-hmm." Serena nodded. "What does the Ball do?" She asked, changing the subject. She still felt paranoid talking about herself.

"Mostly it provides extra atmosphere. In someone with a real gift, it can be used to bring forth images or as a vessel to channel power through. Sometimes it was used to store spells or prophesies. It's said that my Great-Grandmother gave a prophesy, once."

"A prophesy?" Serena gazed intently at the covered Ball, a chill crawling up her spine.

Fortune Telling and Prophesies were very different things. Most with the ability to see into the future couldn't prophesize. Anyone who could do so earned at least temporary fame. Those who had more than a few recorded foresights became famous worldwide and for all time. Prophesies were about fate, things that could not be avoided. They were usually made long before those involved were born, and had foreseen everything from someone breaking a chair to the fall of empires. But they were notoriously vague. Many warned of future dangers and those who could prevent them, but not whether or not they would succeed.

"A prophesy." Elli stared at the Ball too, as if she could draw out the secret with the sheer power of her gaze. Then she shook her head, pulling herself out of it. "But it's just a rumor. And in a Ravi camp, you can barely trust the things that come out of your own mouth." Elli grinned, back to normal. "But, come. We have the rest of the day in the midst of a Ravi performance, show, carnival, whatever you want to call it. And you've barely seen anything!"


	8. Arnalia 4

**Ok, so, just ahead of time, I want to say:**

**I am SO, SO sorry that I haven't updated in forever, I have no excuse except Research Papers for English (well, actually, only one)**

**I don't agree with hunting – I think that if we're going to treat pigs, cows, chickens, and everything else inhumanely in little meat factories, then package their over-chemicaled dead muscle, it makes no sense to go out and kill the wildlife whose homes we have already polluted or paved over. Just saying. I wouldn't have even used it, except it was the only plot device I could think of.**

**I have NO idea what a formal dinner party would be like in the middle of the last 1000 years in Europe, which is where most fairytales are set. Or whatever this is. So, if you happen to be studying something like this and nothing in the next chapter makes sense, then just pretend I put them there on purpose. It's part of Drinsan culture!**

Recap: Princess Arnalia of Opyll is acompanying her father on a trip of the country of Drinse, and on her first night has disobeyed her Father and embarrassed herself in front of the Prince.

**Chap. 4**

Prince Griffon of Drinse looked around at the temporarily empty Hall and sighed resignedly. He slouched deeper into his chair, shifted in his stiff tunic, twisted his tight belt, tugged on the strings of his 'light' cape.

He hated formality. He hated spotless tunics and salad forks and _balls_. Ugh. So, of course, fate had slotted him as a Prince. A Prince with a would-be matchmaker for a mother. And if the Queen liked someone, it was almost guaranteed that Grif would hate her. There was no romance in an arranged marriage. It was awkward from the start, unless one person was overly aggressive, in which case it was scary. Grif shuddered. Lady Lara.

Griffon had, of course, expected to have to appear at this dinner, ever since his father had announced that he would be holding the Hunt. All the expected guests were scheduled to have arrived by now, and they would be departing the next morning, so, as tradition dictated, his father was throwing a feast.

That wasn't the bad part; the Prince might have to sit through a few stories about 'that elk who just wouldn't stop running, even with _three _arrows in his leg' or something; it wasn't anything he couldn't tune out.

But _this_? _This _was ten times worse. _This_ he couldn't tune out.

Princess Arnalia was here. Well, not quite _here_, in the Great Hall, somewhere out in the hallways or something, but soon enough the great doors would open and a herald would rush in and announce 'Princess Arnalia of Opyll' and Grif would have no peace until she either left at the end of the hunt or they were married.

He glanced, resigned, at the suspiciously empty seat next to him. He just _knew_ it was the Princess's, even without a nameplate. His mother, and a number of the servants, had memorized the seating charts. She thought it was tacky to place nameplates, and it gave her a chance to 'greet the guests and get them personally situated' as she led them to their seats personally. Well, as she led the really important ones to their seats personally. Most of the time, she simply smiled graciously at her guest and called a servant.

Grif looked up at the giant clock at the other end of the room. 6:58. Two more minutes until his doom. His mother waved him up, out of his chair, toward where she and his father were standing near the doors, ready to greet whoever came through first.

The clock chimed 7. A few moments later, the grand doors were swung open and a servant rushed through.

"Presenting Lord Randall of Enton, Sir Michael of Enton, Sir Peter of Enton…" The man went on to name six or so knights, who entered one at a time, bowed to the royalty, and were led to their seats by the Queen. She always seated the first guests herself.

A few minutes later, the King of Enton arrived with his son, then some Knights from Ilian, and a group from Grantle. Soon, the Prince had stopped paying any attention to who was bowing and simply nodded automatically, thinking instead of ways to avoid another one of his mother's matrimony schemes. This would be the fourth. And, if there was anything that he'd learned from past experience, it was to expect the unexpected.

The first girl had been as uninterested in him as he was in her; she just wanted an excuse to stay at court until her _true _love, who was in fact her secret fiancé, could arrange their elopement. Grif had actually ended up helping them.

The next one was a visitor from the Kingdom of Lingan. She had come for three months to visit family, and simply left when the three months were up and it was obvious that she wasn't going to end up a Princess.

But Lady Lara, the most recent fiasco, had been determined to marry into the Royal Family. She had followed him everywhere, squeezed out invitations to things she couldn't simply follow him to, and eventually even the Queen began to dislike her. In the end, the Queen had found some excuse to send Lara away from court, and Grif had thought that that was the last of her match-making.

It suddenly occurred to Griffon that perhaps his mother _wasn't_ going to try to pair him with Arnalia. Perhaps it was simply a coincidence and she had realized that the only way Grif would ever find a Queen would be if _he _found her.

And, the Queen had barely even mentioned Opyll – last time, she had been going on for _days _beforehand about Lara's embroidery and fashion and her _astounding _skill with a flute. Maybe she had finally…

Another herald ran forward: 7:12. "Announcing his Royal Highness King Geoffrey of Opyll, Her Royal Highness Princess Arnalia of Opyll, and Lady Sophile of Opyll."

Prince Griffon's head snapped up and, had he been eating soup, he would have choked on it.

­­­­­

Arnalia walked in slowly on her father's arm, smiling widely, trying not to look too particularly at the Prince's face. King Geoffrey stopped in front of the royal family and turned to face his fellow King, conveniently enough placing Arnalia directly in front of Griffon. She curtseyed, he bowed, his face pale. They straightened and she looked directly into his face, smiled again, and turned to follow his mother to her seat.

She sat down a moment later and glanced around the Hall. Three tables stretched across it, one which seemed reserved for the royalty, while the other much larger ones held everyone else. A number of trophy heads had been hung around the Hall – mainly deer, but some which were more exotic.

Arna wrinkled her nose for a moment, without realizing altogether what she was doing. She _hated _to think about what was actually going on at the hunt. And what message was the head of majestic animal on a wall supposed to send? 'Oh, look, I killed this!'? But, around the heads, tapestries had been hung depicting the romantic parts of hunting scenes – noblemen riding out into the forest on tall steeds, strong warriors blowing grand horns or pulling back giant bows.

As the final guests arrived and the all seats filled up, Arna glanced across the table at Sophie, who was sitting next to a rather large, overwhelming knight from Enton, and wondered why the seat next to her was still empty. Surely, _he _wasn't…

King Andreas of Drinse cleared his throat loudly and the room fell silent. "Representatives from all the Kingdoms of the Union, I greet you on the eve of our great hunt. This year we will have a great sport, not only because of the forests I have kept well stocked, but because of the number and skill of the hunters joining us. I would thank you each personally for journeying here, but I like to keep my speeches short," There was a soft chortle of laughter at this from across the hall, "and I'm sure that you're all hungry. So, without further ado, let the feast begin!"

The King raised his arms and doors at the end of the hall, presumably leading to the Kitchens, opened and carts laden with dishes of all types burst forth as Drinse's Royal family took their seats.

Arnalia pretended to take great interest in placing her napkin just so as Prince Griffon's chair scraped back. _Damn_. She thought to herself.

_Damn_. Griffon thought as he slowly sat down. _I will _never _underestimate my mother again_.

He glanced over at the Princess, who appeared to be studying her napkin closely. Grif considered his own napkin. Across the table, his mother sent him a look that said clearly '_Talk _to her'. Grif pretended not to notice.

"_Griffon_, where are your _manners_?" The Queen's voice rang out, startling both her son and the Princess next to him. "Introduce yourself."

Grif forced himself to turn to Arnalia. "Ah… Hello, I am Prince Griffon."

"A pleasure…" The Princess's face was turning red, "A pleasure to meet you, Prince Griffon." She faltered, as if trying not to laugh. "Princess Arnalia."

She held up her hand and, as was customary, Grif kissed it. There was a short, rather awkward silence, and then the food was served. Grif's father began to carve the pig, and the lesser dishes were set on the table in front of the guests. Servants began to rush about, pulling the lids off trays, ladling soup and offering the various delicacies to the guests.

Griffon almost grinned with relief, but managed to cough instead, somehow. It was what he did automatically when he was nervous and doing something un-princely. Like the time he tripped down the stairs and he found himself lying on his back at the bottom, fake-coughing. It was getting to be a bad habit.

Arnalia, next to him, gave a perceptible giggle. Grif glanced over at her, still utterly confused. _Why? _Why _did the only girl who's been in the Stadium for over a century HAVE to be my mother's new fixation? And WHY did she have to _sit next to me at a formal dinner the next time we met

_And _why _did he have to _fake-coughArna's thoughts spun through her head, doing little to keep her next giggle from breaking out. It was what happened in truly absurd, awkard situations – she broke into uncontrollable laughter. Well, not quite broke, it was more like slowly descending.

First she'd be giggling, then maybe she'd stop for a few minutes, and then something small, not even funny, would happen and she would have to clamp her mouth shut to keep from _guffawing_. Like, _worse _that just laughing. And eventually, it would build up until she couldn't hold it in anymore, and then she would _explode_.

Arnalia took a deep breath, searching quickly through her head for something serious, something calm. She imagined a lake – pristine, smooth, mellow blue and green. She took another deep breath. She really should have tried this before – it really worked. Another breath.

Then again, this happened so rarely, only when something was _really_ out of the ordinary – she could remember maybe six times. Another breath. So, it wasn't so surprising that she didn't know how to deal with it. Another breath.

She heard a cart roll up behind her and turned to accept a carefully laid out selection of marinated vegetables.

Griffon ate his meal in silence, looking up occasionally to make sure that his mother wasn't watching him. She was, conveniently enough, being entertained by the King of some country. Grif could never keep them straight. He believed that it started with an L or something. Or maybe that was the King's name.

He spent the entire time thinking – what was he supposed to say to her? Could he avoid saying anything at all? Could he possibly convince his mother that he had a sudden stomach-ache? Maybe he could get out of the Fencing Tournament and go on the Hunt…

He practically had a headache by the time the final course – desert – was served. It was a humongous, glazed, sugar-thing. _Glazan_. In the shape of a deer. Grif hated those. Not just the ones in the shape of deer. Glazan were a Drinsan delicacy, dating back hundreds years since before Drinse had really been a country. Apparently, the first one had been made in the shape of a crown, to trick some evil lord or other who was trying to steal the realcrown. Griffon had never really understood why they had tricked the lord with a fake crown made of _sugar_. It was a pretty weird thing to use.

But anyway, the ones today were either filled with carefully molded pastry or pie-filling type bits of fruit. Regardless, it was pretty impossible to eat. You were supposed to use a fork, but that never really worked, and Grif either just left it on his plate or scooped at it with a spoon when no one was looking.

­­­­­­­­­­­­

And sometimes, you got pieces that were just _pure _sugar.

Arnalia suppressed the urge to wrinkle her nose at the sight of the huge Glazan-deer. _And they ruin the whole shape, hacking pieces off of it_.

She gracefully accepted her plate – the very top of one of the antlers. Splendid.

They couldn't ever have fit anything in there except for sugar.

Arna glanced over at the prince as he received the top of the other antler. He glanced over to her plate and rolled his eyes, then immediately let out a fake cough.

Arna felt the tips of her mouth start to stretch, and the back of her throat felt all bubbly. _Oh no, not now. It's almost over!_ She clamped her mouth shut, taking a deep breath through her nose that was cut off by a snort of laughter.

And suddenly she couldn't stop laughing – it all came bubbling up her throat and bursting out of her mouth. She started to rock back and forth with her laughter, barely aware of what she was doing. Arna started to slip out of her chair, and whatever part of her brain that wasn't laughing made her arm shoot out to grab the table to keep from toppling over.

Unfortunately, she missed the table and caught the table cloth. Although her tug didn't move it much, what with all of the heavy dishes and silverware and slightly drunk Kings with their elbows on the table, she made everything shake. And this wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't for the giant, unstable deer.

The deer began to tremble, shaking pieces of sugar onto everyone near it. Then it started to wobble, and then rock a little, until it finally fell over with a wet crash onto the six kings sitting around it – and particularly on King Andreas. There was a sudden, stunned silence, with only the sound of Arnalia's oblivious laughter.

Then the scrape of a chair as Sophie got up, ran around to her friend, grabbed her arm and pulled her, still giggling uncontrollably, out of the Hall.

­

Griffon stared, dazed, as a servant opened the doors, rather automatically, and the two girls ran through. _Maybe I won't have to marry her now._

­­­­­­­­­­

By the time they had reached her room, Arnalia had stopped laughing. And, as her laughter slacked off, she started to think again.

She opened the doors to her room, walked in, and sunk down in a chair.

"What have I done?" She practically crumpled.

Sophie closed the doors. "Well, good cover-up, anyway. He didn't have a chance to choke on his soup."

Arna glared at her friend. "That was hardly helpful."

Sophie shrugged. "I just felt like it needed to be said."

"Well, at least I won't have to face my father – he'll probably leave before I wake up. Hopefully. He'll just leave a stern note or something, and I'll have to apologize to the  
Royal family. I can blame it on travel-induced exhaustion. Really though, I don't see what's so tiring about travel. I mean, we sit in a carriage for a few days. I suppose some people are on horses, but really, that just makes your behind ache. Which isn't all that tiring, really." Arna started to sit up straighter.

"Well, that's a good attitude. If I had dumped sugar…" Sophie trailed off. "Anyway, I agree with you on that whole 'tiresome journey' thing. Really, it gave me a lot of energy. It was _getting here _that sucked it all out of me."

Arna opened her mouth to say something, and a yawn came out instead.

"See!" Sophie laughed.

Arna snorted softly. "I don't think I'm ever going to be able to laugh again."

"I hope not. That was worse than the time you accidentally splattered that lord with gravy and he didn't notice, then you had to dance with him, and…" Sophie trailed off, laughing too hard to continue.

"And, remember the time I set that drape on fire during my brothers' ball and in the panic Duke Godfrey's fake hair fell off?" Arna started to giggle too.

"Technically, that time you weren't the only one laughing, although no one was laughing quite as hard as you were."

Suddenly, the clock rang nine.

Sophie yawned, and Arna yawned a moment later, as if in response.

Sophie giggled. "That's kind of sad. It's only nine and we're already tired. And I have to walk all the way over to my rooms." Sophie headed for the door.

"Good night."

"G'night."

"Arna, you're engaged!" Sophie burst into Arna's room in only a dressing robe and slippers.

"What?" Arna replied groggily.

"You Are Engaged." Sophie repeated, slowly.

"What!" Arna sprang up, staring at her friend.

Sophie explained quickly. She had been woken up ten or so minutes ago by two maids entering her room to set the bath and lay out her clothes. Thinking Sophie was still asleep, they had started gossiping about the aftermath of the feast. And, apparently, late that night, Arna's father had met with the King of Drinse, and…

"I'm engaged to _Prince Griffon_!" Arna screeched. She jumped up and would have run out the door in her nightgown if Sophie hadn't stopped her.

"Arna, where are you going?" Sophie grabbed her friend's arm, knowing how well the princess dealt with surprise.

Arna spun away, grabbed her robe, and escaped past Sophie's grasp. "To see my father!" She yelled back, already spinning around the corner.

She ran down the hall and would have pounded on her father's door had it not been open already. King Geoffrey, dressed for hunting, was just about to leave.

"Arna?" He said, surprised.

"I'm engaged?" Arna had to grab the door frame to keep from running into him.

"Well… yes…" The King looked guilty. "You know, you weren't supposed to find out about that until after I'd left."

"_Engaged_?" Arna whispered fiercely.

"Well, not really." Arna's father said flippantly. "With your enchantment, you can't just be engaged at random, it's really only until I get back."

"Just… until… you get back…" Arna said slowly, catching her breath.

"Yes. You see, after last night, it became obvious that I couldn't just leave you here all alone. A fiancé will work nicely to keep you from getting into any sort of situation. And, once I get back, I will simply break the engagement. It's all part of the deal King Andreas and I worked out." King Geoffrey started walking down the hall.

Arna followed him. "I can behave without a fiancé! And if you didn't think I could, why did you let me come along?"

"I let you come along because I assumed that you wouldn't go gallivanting around the city your first _hour _here, and because you gave me no peace until I agreed to bring you with me. And if you're trying to convince me that you _don't _need to be regulated by a fiancé, you're doing a pretty bad job. Do you intend to follow me all the way to the stables dressed like that?"

Arna stopped and looked down at herself. She hadn't buttoned her robe all the way and she only had one slipper on; the other one she'd accidentally kicked under the bed unpacking and it would have taken too long to get it out before.

"But…"

"No buts. You brought this upon yourself, and even you can not deny that."

"But–"

"I'll see you in a month!" Arna's father gave her a fake salute and strode quickly down the hall and around the corner.

"But…"


End file.
